Fist of the Storming Star
by Sintagon
Summary: In the days after the Fourth War, Ora-Ur struggles to finish a mission given to her by Kalandrios. Seeking old allies and old enemies, Ora hopes to find what she was sent for to save Garadar. (Side-story of the Shadow of Conquest.)
1. Chapter 1: Dusty Roads

A warm meaty smell wafted through the air, straight into his nose. He sighed deeply as it hit him, the scent of a stew gone right. Waddling over, he stirred the pot just a bit more while adding a twinge of salt and other proper Durotar spices. He kissed his fingers, "Ah, bravo… We've got a proper meal on our hands. First one in a while." He banged on a bell erected near his work station with a long pole, "Come, my friends, dinner!"

Grothorn was an old orc. He swore he'd seen it all, from Demon Gods in the sky plunging continent sized swords into the ground, to the joys of parenthood. He was content with his life, content with his age. He hadn't the power left in him to wield an axe or swing his fists, nay, that life had long since left him. A ladle or a spoon, however? That was this orc's weapon of choice, as he could slay entire crowds of rowdy grunts with a single stir of a pot. If he couldn't, he was doomed! He was more than just old, his rotund belly held him down. He swore if he lost the weight he'd live longer, but he was also happy being himself. Grothorn didn't need those extra years, if they were even waiting for him at the end of his days. He filled a few bowls with his stew, clear joy still in his movements. What good did it do him to worry about himself? He had the good people of the Horde to take care of.

"Ey, ol' Broth." A voice with a lot of heart piped up as several exhausted soldiers and refugees filed on into his kitchen, "How's work?"

Grothorn grinned widely as his friend stood before him, another old soul that's lived in the Horde longer than it's been the Horde. A blackrock with even blacker teeth, Xage Foundryson. Patting his friend on the shoulder, "What's the news, Xage? Has the situation in the city changed?"

The blackrock smiled even wider, "Mhm! She's gone, Broth! You can open your kitchen up in town again."

Grothorn took a moment to realize what he said, "Who? Oh, by the Ancestors… You mean the Warchief?"

"Ayup, the rebels demanded a Mak'gora. She won, but she got hit hard enough for the last of her screws to get knocked loose. The War's over, Thrall and that Alliance King have agreed to it." Xage took a bowl, stepping out of line for the rest to get their food.

"She won a Mak'gora… against who?" It didn't do Grothorn well to dwell on such things. The old orc was no good at handling sad subjects anymore, there were far too many and he dared not wallow in such tragedies.

A young orc without the green tinge of felblood in her skin walked up next in line, a look that almost stopped him from dwelling on the idea. There were just too many names that could've challenged the Banshee Queen and died for their ideals… Baine and Saurfang chief among those names. She looked into his eyes, and he'd never forget this interaction.

"You are Grothorn? I remember stories of a Grothorn from home, how he stood so tall and fearsome against the threats against his home. He had a big heart, never wanted the war that he became a part of. Even if you aren't the same Grothorn, I'm still glad to meet such a hospitable soul. A kitchen to feed the downtrodden and exhausted, for no profit and only out of goodwill? That's something worth celebrating! I'm Ora-Ur, thank you for the meal." She lifted the bowl to him, almost as a toast to that name, which dispelled the anxiety from his heart. Even if one of those heroes died, they preserved the heart and soul of the Horde. Their sacrifice was worth it, because their sacrifice allowed these good people to carry on.

Something about the words she spoke resonated within him, making him dream of a life long since passed. As he continued to fill bowls and speak with the folk who had come, he pondered on that life. A simpler life, where he lived as a hunter for a small group of Warsong in the depths of the swamps near Highmaul. He had a family, a wife and a son, and even had a daughter… A daughter he had to give up to Garadar, out of fear that his strength would crush her. She had the same eyes as this 'Ora-Ur', so it made him feel warm to think of her. If she were still alive, he'd be happy to see her.

The line thins and eventually everyone's been fed. He has quite a bit more stew left, so he helps himself to it. He sits in his chair with a smile on his face. That is, until someone new storms into the room. A heavily armored blood elf opens the door unceremoniously as his friends pour in. Grothorn suspects nothing, standing up, offering a few more bowls for this new group. They look fresh, angry, but he cannot refuse a patron even if they don't appear to be in need. He doesn't allow himself to judge, because how fair would that be?

"We're not here for your piss, orc. We're here for traitors to the Horde." The elf's yellow eyes basically impale him with the daggers they were glaring, an intense feeling of condescension escaping this soldier.

"I apologize, but I don't believe any traitors are here… Didn't you hear the news? Sylvanas is gone." Grothorn spoke slowly, firmly.

The elf growls, his impatience almost as obvious as his anger, "Yes, you blithering idiot. I'm sniffing out her loyalists, and figured your hotspot for illegal activity would be a perfect spot to find them."

Grothorn almost drops his spoon, "Illegal activity? I'm running a kitchen, good sir. I'm much too old for breaking laws anymore."

"Yes. I am loyal to the Horde, and the Horde once declared that any allies to the Old Soldier's rebellion were to be executed or turned in on sight. Considering that among your patrons, I can already see three wanted faces from Sylvanas' Horde… I can call you a liar. A bad one, too." The elf leans forward, jabbing a finger at him.

"I cannot turn people in need away."

"That's not your choice to make."

"It IS my choice to make, and I will not be told otherwise. There are no traitors here, take your business elsewhere." Grothorn stood, all eyes now on him. He wasn't fearsome by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a certain resolve within the old orc that spoke of a time where he was a fearsome warrior. That same resolve spoke greatly on the fact that he was willing to fight for his ideals, that he wasn't going to stand down.

The elf scoffed, "So you're a traitor, then? You refuse a Centurion of the Horde, because you only care about your status quo. Would it have killed you to turn someone in? I'm almost sure it would, like I'm about to kill this entire operation. You'll be detained, and- GAH!" A bang on the back of his head, a hammer held in the air where the elf once stood. Xage held the offending weapon.

"Sorry, lads, but fuck off. I ain't gonna take some shitters bullying my pal or any of the good people of the Horde. Did ya miss the fuckin' memo? Sylvanas is gone, that means the rest of you tyrannical motherfuckers can go rot with her!" He spat a wad of chewing tobacco on the elf's face as he struggled to get back up. The other three soldiers, a couple of orcs and a tauren, they moved to confront the belligerent orc.

"Xage, you idiot!" Grothorn's shout was overwhelmed by a quick fight, ending with Xage half-dead on the floor. The other soldiers helped their Centurion back to his feet, who ordered them to arrest everyone in the bar. Most of the patrons gave up without much of a struggle, many of them too tired or too afraid to stand up. That was until they came to that some young orc, busy eating through some bread she brought with her.

"Didn't you get the memo? You're going in for questioning, like the rest of the 'good' people here." The tauren spoke, his voice barely above a grumble. He tapped her on the shoulder, his second mistake.

"Allow me to finish my meal. I've been traveling all day, and unlike the Barrens, Durotar is not ripe with nature's bounty. You should allow the rest of them to eat, too. I'm fairly sure they'll be more willing to comply if you show compassion." She was calm, dunking her bread into the stew. She went to take a bite, but the loaf was slapped from her hand.

"That wasn't a request, you four tusked freak. Get up."

She sighed, "You really don't want to do this. You could leave, and none of this will happen."

The bull grit his teeth, "Was that a threat?"

Ora-Ur shook her head, reaching for the bread. Lucky for her, it landed on the table, instead of the dirty ground. She offered the tauren a seat, which he not-so-politely refused. Shaking her head, she took a bite of her loaf, "You are so angry. All of you are, what happened? Is it the death of Saurfang, the end of the war? Or is there something else?"

"What the hell are you? Some sorta shrink?" One of the orcs walked over, placing his hands on the table so he could get a good look at her. She wore a fairly large cloak, covering much of her body, only revealing pieces of her face and limbs while she sat. He reached forward to lift the hood up, only to have his hand (forcefully) gently pushed away.

"Please refrain. I believe I said that this can go smoothly if you show compassion, which you admittedly are clearly lacking in. I am new to this world, and even I know that Grothorn's home is a sanctuary for the downtrodden. How does it make you look, with your big marching boots and militant bravado to come knock down his door and demand we all leave?" Ora glares at the orc in front of her, "It makes you look like a coward. Instead of taking time and showing a bit of heart, you manipulate fear to rip people away from peace. You don't like peace."

"YOU DARE?!" The orc reels back, grabbing his axe. He drives it through the table, splitting Ora's bowl in half. Grothorn takes cover from the shards of wood that fling through the air. She dodged out of the way, stepping quickly out of the way of a bear-hug from the tauren. The elf flings a dagger at her, which she catches with her cloak. She hurls her cloak off, to reveal herself in full.

There she stood, brilliantly tattooed in Warsong symbols, an orc dressed in the gi of a martial artist. Her hair was bound in a massive braid down her back, with a mohawk resting atop her head. She was youthful, strongly athletic, almost sublime in form. Grothorn gulped. He realized he needed to get everyone out of there immediately. A battle was about to take place, a battle he was sure that was going to be easily won. Opening the back door, he shepherded the patrons outside. He kept his eyes trained on Ora-Ur.

One of the patrons goes to him, speaking quietly, "Grothorn, I've seen that orc before. She's saved several lives in the barrens, during when the storms got real bad. Pulled an entire village out of the mud. I think she's one of them heroes, you know? The heroes that our leaders keep around to take care of big threats."

Grothorn shook his head, "No. I'd know of her, if that was true. But…" He looks to the patron, "I think I remember her from somewhere. Somewhere long ago." Warsong tattoos. Stories of a Grothorn from home. The eyes of his daughter… could it be? He shook his head, "That's just a theory, though. I'm rooting for her either way, she's fighting for people like us."

She lowered herself into a battle stance, surrounded by four highly trained soldiers, all armed to the teeth in the best weapons and armor. The elf lunged forward with his spear, only for it to be locked between her arm and her chest. She twisted, throwing his balance off, taking the spear from him. The orcs charge, the larger one swinging his axe to only get a spear stuck through his hand. While he roared in pain, the smaller orc chased Ora with her daggers. One slash nicks the side of Ora's face, but the attack was allowed through just so that Ora could land a solid gut-punch on her.

The tauren stomps the ground, blowing up a large cloud of dust. A crackle of lightning rips through the air, electricity keeping the dust high. As the two orcs recover, Ora leaps forward surrounded by a thunderous aura, tackling the tauren to the ground. She pins him, grabbing his horns and forcing his head backwards. She sends another shock of lightning through the air, creating a static bond around the warrior. The spear lodged in the other orc's hand is now flung at her, which she jumps up and snaps in half with a twist of her thighs. Landing, she grabs both pieces, and takes on the two orcs.

The larger orc swings his axe downwards, the smaller orc lunging forth with both blades primed for where she planned Ora being. The elf throws another dagger, his sword and shield drawn. Ora runs fast enough to slide underneath the blade's strike, jamming the blunt end of both her weapons into his gut. She rolls to the side, avoiding the planned attack from the smaller orc. Jumping to her feet, she catches two slices from the orc's daggers, slapping one from her hand. Though extended a bit too far forward, Ora catches the second strike before it landed in her neck. Dropping the sharper spear piece, which was now pierced by a dagger, Ora used her now free fist to crack her enemy straight in the face.

She bashes the smaller orc with her shoulder, sending her sprawling. Another axe swipe misses her by a small margin, but she catches the head of the axe as it goes down with her free hand. Through her palm she sends a torrent of electricity, shocking it out of his hands. Enraged, he begins to wildly flail his arms. A volley of missed punches and kicks, some blocked and even parried by her. His movements grow slower, and a large overhead swing was used against him. She grapples his arm and with all her strength, she throws the heavily armored orc through the wall. The elf slams her in the back with his shield, swinging his mace down. Ora recovers quickly from the shield bash, reorienting herself to face the elf with a pivot.

His mace hits the dirt, though a shockwave of holy magic clips Ora in the shins. She stumbles, as the knight slams his mace hard into her shoulder. Not giving her any room, he stomps the ground, almost crushing her feet if not for her quick movements. Her arm wasn't completely shattered by the attack, but she still kept her distance for the moment. The knight chased her, bashing tables out of the way, crushing the stray chair thrown his direction. He was not catching up, but he hoped he'd eventually catch her out. Ora leaps over a table, landing out in the space cleared out by the tauren's stomp. Where she hoped to gain some ground, the blood knight saw a perfect opportunity. He sent a chain of divine energy out to catch Ora by the leg.

He was successful, as she landed hard on the ground when the chain was pulled. The knight pushed one of the few remaining tables away, swinging his mace one last time over Ora's head. The fool he was, he ignored the dust cloud still hovering in the air. Ora turned at the last second and grabbed his mace, still taking a lot of force from the attack, and pulled the electricity out of the air into her body. The lightning traveled through the metal mace, through his army, and blasted the elf through the same hole in the wall the axe-wielding orc went. She jumped to her feet and glanced out the hole to see whether or not both of them were knocked out. Seeing that they were safely unconscious, she moved over to the only still conscious member of the group.

"Tell me, tauren, what was the purpose of your visit?" She popped her arm back into place mid sentence, just to prove a point. What point?

"Badass… Err, sorry. We may or may not have been looking for a fight. Yeah, yell at me now, we're desperate. A lot of the loyalists have fled into the countryside, so we've been shaking down a lot of the more independent operations we've run across," the tauren sheepishly smiles, "It's safe to say we didn't find anything, and well, we've gotten a bit frustrated and worried."

"That's no excuse to attack anyone. You might've been able to act that way in another time, but I don't think many of us will allow that anymore." Ora leaned over to scoop her cloak from the ground, " You're lucky I'm in a hurry. I'm on a journey and I thought this was a good place to stop. Turns out I should just get out of Durotar immediately, huh?"

The tauren nodded, " 'fraid so. Saurfang's death and the hunt for the Banshee Queen's people is going to keep most of Northern Kalimdor loud and busy. Will you let me up?"

"No. Sorry, but you're going to stay there for a while." She wagged her finger at him, almost like a teacher disciplining a student.

"Wa… what for?" He was legitimately perplexed by that.

She cracked her neck a few times, "You interrupted my meal."

Grothorn sent for the authorities, and it took them some time to arrive. The commander was not too pleased to see his men all beaten and battered, but when told the story, he was even more angry to hear that they caused so much havoc for so little. Though Groth's kitchen was mostly in shambles, he was promised that the city would provide a new kitchen for him somewhere closer to the heart of the Horde. He was promised a kitchen in the Valley of Strength, in fact, because apparently Thrall had heard about all this trouble and grew frustrated that it even happened. It was clear the Horde was returning to a better era with all the dark and sinister forces no longer leading it, as the leaders earnestly appeared to be doing all they could to fix the Horde.

With the soldiers finally out of his ruined shop, he was surprised to see Ora-Ur was still there. By all means, she should've been a part of her own celebration, as many of the patrons had gone on to party by a campfire made from his broken furniture nearby. She sat alone, tending to her wounds, silent. Grothorn's heart sank a little. Why would she sit alone like that? Was there something they did wrong?

He made his way over, assisted by a now conscious Xage, and they both waited for her to notice them. No dice, she was a bit trapped in her own world there. So, Groth sat on a stone nearby, coughing a little to get her attention. Her head snapped up, Grothorn smiling at her when she finally saw him. He leaned forwards, "Ora-Ur. You know, you're the hero right now. The hero that so many talk about, just a random person saving good people from a bad situation. Those heroes are people worth celebrating, you know. Go and have fun with those good people! You deserve it."

"Th-thanks, but, I prefer being alone." Ora's voice was much more shy than it was before, as if the determined soul warrior from before was simply an act.

Groth quirked a brow, "Alone? Why's that? Er, if you don't mind me asking."

She leaned back against a barrel behind her, looking wistfully at the now dimming sky. Eyes filled with newborn starlight, Ora sighed and spoke with a similar quiet tone, "I suppose that's just what I'm used to. Being alone."

Grothorn sensed a profound sadness behind those words, as if the young woman had truly never felt welcomed into a home for her entire lifetime. She was alone in this world and the world she came from, and she had accepted that fact so long ago that he wondered if she truly ever sought a new family out. He nodded, "I can understand that. For the longest time, I was alone. Lost my family a long time ago, and I never could find them. That's why I built the kitchen you darn roughed up, eh?"

Ora let out a small chuckle, "It's a part of the job, I guess. There's always collateral when I try to be a good person."

Xage bent down, "Well, don't let us old shitbags stop you from being a hero, girl. Break as many walls as you need, as long as you break 'em down with the head of some real piece of crap." He gave her a sharp thumbs up, "Now, Imma go get messed up. If we're traveling to Orgrimmar tomorrow, I don't wanna remember the trip. Hate traveling…" The blackrock grumbled as he walked away.

"So, why did you stay? You did say you had a journey to go on." Grothorn turned his focus back to Ora.

"Well, I wanted to thank you, Grothorn. You're the same orc I remembered hearing about as a kid, you must be. You stood against those soldiers even though you're so old…" Ora looked off to the side.

"I'm surprised they tell stories of an orc who abandoned his family out of fear." He hummed, "Must not have many strong role models from my generation to tell stories about, eh?"

"...Ah, I see." Ora stood up, stepping away without anything else to say. Seems Grothorn accidently touched a nerve. He wondered if her family abandoned her, just as he abandoned his. Flashes of recognition flew through his brain, sending his eyes wide. He had to stop himself from chasing the orc down. Everything just made so much sense…

Grothorn had met his daughter today, and he never felt so proud in his entire life. He was so happy that she didn't know him. She deserved a life away from him. Though he so dearly wished to hug her, to tell her everything was fine… She wasn't at home on Azeroth. Her journey certainly wasn't going to stay on Azeroth, she said it herself, she was a visitor from another world. No part of his soul told him it was right to give her baggage for leaving Azeroth behind. The good people of Garadar were her family, not him. He was merely Grothorn the Chef, an inconsequential figure in her journey.

As he watched her return to the path, the sun silhouetting her frame as she went, Grothorn cried to himself. She felt so alone and he couldn't do anything for her. He spoke into the air, and although it was impossible for anyone to hear him, he still prayed that whatever cosmic forces that could hear him would.

"Please, I hope she knows that wherever she goes, she'll never be unloved. Ancestors, never let her feel cold and alone again. She's touched so many souls on her journey, and so what if she has to travel alone? We all go with her… A Marked Traveler, marked by the love of all of the people she's saved." Grothorn knelt in the red dust of Durotar, so earnestly hoping that this message somehow came to Ora. To the daughter he wished he never gave away.

To the Fist of the Storming Star.


	2. Chapter 2: No More Dusty Roads

So, things didn't exactly go as planned. Sure she asked for a living being, but she didn't expect them to give her nothing but the map and a kindly kick in the ass. Ludrasa was not one to bellyache about setbacks, but she still didn't look forward to using her own blood to use the vessel Faust gave to her. She held it as she looked to the dune where this ruin had been ripped from, her single eye giving a quick look over of the place. It was definitely old, probably older than Azshara's Empire. The only reason she guessed this was because the only statue she could see was not of any known major highborne nor of Queen Azshara herself. It was practically a rule that an estate of this size absolutely contained a statue of the Queen.

She shook her head, giving one more glance to the vessel. She set her satchel down in the sand, placing the vessel firmly in the wet ground next to it. She snapped a few spells overtop her possessions. Deftly, she picked up the materials she needed. With a spring in her step, she jogged toward the entrance of the building. It was still mostly typical of Highborne architecture, magical ivory stone holding it together even after ten thousand years of being abandoned and open to the elements. Though the color and life that once made these drab white walls shine had long since been eaten away, there were still signs that someone lived here years ago. The entryway was the only room that the light of the midday sun reached, leaving little for Ludrasa to truly investigate.

She did, however, locate signs of the mercenaries and adventurers that came before her. Corpses, mostly. That and a bloody trail that lead into abnormal darkness. Her magic senses picked up the smell of dark magic, a tell tale sign that either something dead or something old lurked further within. She came to the first body, a young blood elf, who was apparently killed instantly. There was no look of shock or pain on her face, her body clearly sprawled as if it simply dropped. Ludrasa couldn't see any obvious injuries on the surface, so she placed her hand over the elf's body. After a quick spellcast, she saw exactly what happened. The elf wasn't magically inclined, so a powerful shadow spell melted her brain. She'd seen the "Finger of Death" mentioned once or twice, mostly attributed to the horrifying Defiler of the Burning Legion.

So, either this was that same spell, or the threat at hand hypnotized or even infiltrated their mind. She decided to check a few more bodies, keeping her eye trained on the door as she moved. The second body's head was broken like a watermelon, whatever the person was beforehand didn't matter anymore. What they were was splattered around, their body showing signs of a struggle. The blood was not fresh, but it was black. She noted that the brain was still taken, as she could not locate its remnants. Finally, she glanced to the final body, blood still fresh. A young orc with brown skin, Ludrasa reached out to check if her matter was gone too.

She did not expect the orc to reach out and grab her on the wrist.

To say Ludrasa almost blew her head off wouldn't be completely true. She totally would have if she could've drawn her gun in time, but the orc gave her a look that told her that would be a terrible idea. The orc let go, falling back and grunting in pain. She glared at the injured orc, "The hell was that for? I was making a hypothesis and a battle plan…"

"Ludrasa?" The orc's voice was familiar.

"By the stars… Ora-Ur? What the hell are you doing out here? I didn't take you for a mercenary type… unless these guys are those Ashbound people you talked about when we fought together." Ludrasa reached out her hand to help Ora up.

The orc took her hand, standing rather easily. It seemed she didn't suffer anything near as negative as the other two bodies, "No. I didn't know them. Dead when I got here, the two I came with went further inside. Could say I wanted to help the Landing out."

"Why help them? They're not that needy, you know." Ludrasa snorted, "Are you still trying to be a hero?"

Ora glared, "I am not trying to be a hero. Is it so bad to do good things? And anyhow… I need money to survive on this world."

"Competition?" Ludrasa said with a snarl, a snarl that almost made poor Ora-Ur drop into a fighting stance. That was until she heard the nightborne begin to chuckle, "We can split the reward. Whatever killed these two and your buddies is probably pretty old and ugly. Strong, too."

"It is strong. I think I was able to survive by sheer luck." Ora began to wrap her long ponytail around her neck, flipping her hood up after she was finished.

"Tell me more. This thing can use potent shadow magic and popped that guy's head like a melon. You survived, so clearly you fought it and saw it." Ludrasa turns to study the rest of the room, listening to Ora-Ur.

The orc looked at her hands, "Well, it is fast. It strikes hard. I don't recall it using any magic, though. I think it is a magical being." She flexes her fists, "My electricity had no effect on it."

Ludrasa was studying the blood on the ground when she heard that, "A Null Magic aura, huh? Fast and strong, nullifies magic, and is wrapped in dark magic itself. Ora, did it have a face?"

"From what I saw, yes and no. It wasn't a faceless one, but it didn't exactly have a traditional face. A sort of… stinger? It had a stinger on its face. A pair of eyes, for sure." She tapped her foot, thinking. Snapping her fingers in a moment of recollection, she blurts out, "Stars! For some reason I remember that it had a starlike property to it!"

"Stars and a stinger. You just described a Mael, Ora." She took a lick of the blood.

"A what?" The orc's brow quirked.

"A mael. These things are rare! The Void has its own plethora of monsters, and Maels are in the ranks of some of the uglier ones. We've been lucky to only ever see two or three on record, but to skip a long history lesson, they inject you with a shadow spell to melt your brain so that they can physically devour your self. They gain knowledge and strength from eating brains, so much so that some maels are actually intelligent." Ludrasa grunted, "This one's blood isn't acidic enough, though. It's probably just a juvenile that got sucked here through our conflict with King Alsgabar and that Lord fella."

"So, what do we do? I hit it pretty hard, even if my magic had no effect on it. Do we go for help or…?" She shrugged at Ludrasa, as if asking the nightborne to answer her question for her.

Ludrasa bit down on a crystal, drawing a circle with chalk on the ground. She looked up, words somewhat muddied by the obstruction between her teeth, "Well, de way I shee it… we godda hun' dat ting down." She spat the crystal on the ground, her saliva appearing to deep into the crack in the gem. Her spit was mixed with some sort of powder and a fruit of some sort, "And I've got the means to locate it. We've just gotta be ready to kill it when we reach it."

"What are you doing?" Ora squinted at the magic circle.

"Well, this is nothing. I suppose I'd rather these bodies not stand back up because they need vengeance upon this beastie, and well… they deserve a proper burial." The circle turns green, the chalk coming alive into vibrant roots. They stretch out for the bodies, wrapping them tightly. Down into the sand they were drawn, a slight bloom of light escaping their bodies as they were devoured by the beach. Flowers suited for such an environment grew over where the sand had been disturbed. Suddenly, the austere ruins had their life and color restored to them. Such a morose thought, that death was the source of the return of life to an area.

Ludrasa turned to the yawning doorway that lead into the creature's lair, "Further in, then? We should get this done before nightfall. I'd rather not open the hunting space to the entirety of Azshara."

"Wait, do you mean this thing's only been here-" Ora gets interrupted.

"My hypothesis isn't concrete, but this thing wouldn't leave survivors. I have a feeling that there was something else going on here, and whatever it was invited a mael into our realm. Potential occult activity? Perhaps a few warlocks. It could have even been ghosts. Highborne, even as banshees, don't know how to let go of their hunger for power." She smirked, "Though what is certain is that your friends could still be alive, as the blood on the entrance there is mael blood."

"You can tell that by taste?" Ora grimaced, "What kind of mercenary are you?"

"I'm the best kind, Ora. I'm a professional." She winked, but… she always winked. She didn't have a second eye to make the motion correctly, so things just ended up looking fairly strange.

"Right. So, before you tell me your plan, allow me to tell you what I think we should do." Ora stood in front of the entrance, looking further into darkness. Unusual for a highborne estate, there were proper hallways that seemed to have originally been above ground. The walls were pretty stable, as well, and were even painted! Years of being underground had preserved the lower areas fairly well, it just seemed the entrance was blasted by the elements.

"Go ahead. I'm all ears…". She giggled a bit, wiggling her larger than average elven ears.

The orc was not amused, "Well. This thing is a hunter born of the Void. Though my homeland has never seen one of its specific kind, we've dealt with enough horrors from beyond that I feel like I can make a judgment on the best move we should take. It attacks the head, pierces the forehead with its stinger. It's extremely fast and very strong… so, I say if it's single minded and fast; it'll very likely ignore danger to go in for a swift kill. I'm big. I'm obvious."

"You want me to shoot it while you hold its attention, don't you." Ludrasa frowned a little, biting her lip. She nodded, "A fair idea, actually. It's a bit straightforward, but…"

Ora stepped into the hallway as Ludrasa trailed off. The elf loaded her rifle, following close behind. Their proximity to the bay of Azshara was fairly helpful in narrowing their hunting ground, as half of the estate was drowned by dark sea water. Murky thanks to sand and stagnation, it was incredibly unlikely that anything but bacteria and a few crustaceans lived in those pools. Ludrasa lit a few lanterns with her magic, Ora carrying Elemental fire in one of her hands. The building was still intensely dark, but their efforts allowed them enough visibility to properly investigate.

Ora headed near the pool, jabbing two fingers into it to test the quality. Her elemental skill was quite nice to have in such a situation, though Ludrasa was not quite sure why she'd test the water out of all things. She, herself, moved to search the rest of the estate. It was mostly to find an entrance to what she was sure was an underground lair. She prodded the walls, moved subterranean foliage to the side, even glancing through shattered tiling to locate a hole. She didn't leave the second room, however, making certain Ora was still within her vision.

Ora drew her fingers through the water, "The water is unwell. Tainted blood rests within it."

"So?"

"It could be a clue that we have to swim to find its lair." Ora pulled her fingers from the water, stepping away from the pool. She looks to the mercenary, "I still think we should search the rest of the building before moving onwards. Even if we only have a few more hours, we've got ample time."

Ludrasa nodded, "True. Though by what your own words, things might have changed. Your allies, what were they like?"

"A goblin from town and a warlock. It wouldn't surprise me to find the warlock alive, all things considered." Ora grunted, "He is a skeleton, after all. Nothing to suck out of his head."

"But the goblin, what were they like?" The mercenary's brow furrowed.

"He was a veteran of a few trade wars. Knew a lot of history." Ora shifted her weight a bit, "Oh. I see what you're getting at."

"Our mael might've eaten enough smart juice to grow his own intelligence." She snapped her fingers, "Meaning we absolutely are going to look at the rest of this place before we go swimming. Old highborne artifacts could play really nicely in a fight against a semi-intelligent Void spawn."

"Are you certain?" The disbelief was palpable in Ora's voice.

Ludrasa smiled, "No. That's what makes it more fun." The elf waved Ora over towards the next doorway, which lead into a smaller set of rooms. It was clear now that the room they had entered was some sort of nexus to the rest of the building, a nexus potentially lacking in portals and other sorts of things that used to carry people around it. A mercenary wouldn't care too deeply on the status of spires or fellow estates, but the kind of person this mercenary was definitely sad that the old gates no longer could activate. Three rooms sat connected to the hall.

Ora carried on forward to the last room while Ludrasa entered the first one she saw. The mercenary entered the room, and much to her excitement and excellent sense for highborne building layout, she found herself in an old armory. Though it appeared most of the weapons were gone, there were still a fair few shelves lined with backups as well as a few sets of old fashioned armor resting in near perfect condition near the back. She hurried over to the weapon racks, sifting through them in record time.

She placed her rifle into its holster, grabbing a fairly mundane halberd. She tested its weight against the suit of armor, seeing that it was pretty strong. Though she wished so dearly to sell a pristine set of highborne plate, she also wanted to know if this non-magical weapon was good enough to pierce a monster's skin. Seeing that she almost cut through magical plate, she felt fairly confident that it would do quite well enough. A sword of similar composition and a few daggers were also added to her arsenal. Safety was not quite the feeling she felt, but it was close enough for her tastes. She headed out to search the next room, waiting for Ora.

The next room was once what appeared to be a treasure room. The treasure was all missing, much to her surprise. This place must've been underground for millennia, only the Cataclysm and recent elemental upheaval drawing it out of the ground. Considering that the armory was intact, how could someone have drained the treasure room already? Ludrasa looked to the floor, to the strange tables set in multiple corners, as well as the ceiling that seemed to possess a magical focus. The floor was engraved with runes that she'd seen a few times, as well with runes that she'd never seen anything the likes of. Those tables had tubes and vials littered across them, letters and notes sprawled everywhere she looked.

A warlock must've been using this place as their haunt until the mael arrived. Ludrasa's prior knowledge of fel rituals told her that the runes on the ground were set perfectly for an intonation ritual, where song and dance would be used to invoke an older spirit of the land. These things typically invited imps and the likes, so she wondered why so much care was taken in creating such a large focus. Certainly only a single soul gem would be required for such a rite.

Things didn't add up, so she headed to collect a few scattered notes. Most of it was gibberish, though the paper was in relatively good shape. It seemed that a memetic magic protected much of the wording on these pages, but some of the later ones lacked it. It seemed the warlock was caught off guard, potentially by the mael. She found a name, however. As well as credentials and a certificate. This was a blood elf professor from a rather controversial Academy of Magical Study on the coast of Quel'thalas. His name was Sorn Redmoon, a tenured professor and warlock who prided himself on his mastery over chaos.

Someone commissioned him to investigate something, something that drew the elf out here. What that something was appeared mostly vague due to the memetic shield he put up, but Ludrasa felt as if she could be able to dispel them without ruining the text beneath. That was for later. She put down the notes, picking up a letter off the ground. Luckily, it was a cipher of a few of the unknown runes on the ground. Sadly, it was also damaged heavily by blood. She sniffed at the blood, licking it as soon as her nose came up with nothing. It was the elf's blood, for sure.

After reading a bit of the cipher, she could make out a few words in the incantation. She spoke them out loud, to make sense of them. "Master of Mist, Lord of the something Tower on the Something side of Elune… And the rest is incoherent without the rest of the cipher. Unlucky."

Ora's voice filled the room, "Quite a puzzle. Should write those runes down and collect those notes later, huh?"

Ludrasa nodded, "Yup. Find anything?"

"Fresh corpse. A staff." She tapped it, "I assume the corpse is probably of the man who set all of this up?"

"Likely. Doesn't particularly matter to me if all you found on him was his magical medium. Funny enough, mediums that aren't enchanted actually hurt things with anti-magic barriers better than normal weapons. Useful for our current enemy, eh?" Ludrasa turned around, "My gun's mostly useless against our foe. Decided to pick up a few weapons from the supply closet. You need anything stabby?"

Ora shook her head, "I prefer a good staff and my fists."

"Weird philosophy for an orc, but I'll take it. Less sharp weapons flailing around, the better." She snorted, "Ready? Or do you wanna check out the northern hallway?"

"I'm as ready as I can be, Miss Sheiza." With Ora's consent, Ludrasa jogged back into the nexus. To the sunken section of the estate she looked, the glow of her eye reflecting from the dark pool. She took her boots off, leaving her cloak and jacket on a nearby stone. Ora left her cloak on the same stone. As they both looked into the water, they felt no apprehension. As strange as it was, a team had been built in the ruins of a forgotten estate. The Fist of the Storming Star and the Violet Panther could rely on each other down there.

Still, they steeled themselves for battle. The mael was waiting for them behind a veil of black water. Black water and even blacker magic was at play, and Ludrasa knew she'd need to investigate this further. That warlock may have given her a new job to follow.


	3. Chapter 3: Feud in the Pit

The sunken area originally seemed to be a bit of a basement, as well as a stairway to a tower. Though the tower itself seemed to have long since snapped off of the main building, the area where the stairs lead appeared to be a fairly massive cavern. As Ludrasa shook water off of herself like some wet animal, she glanced around to make sure she was seeing things correctly.

"Damn massive cave. Wonder how deep into the ground we are…" She lifted her hand up, shining an arcane light into the dark, "I also wonder where our friend might be."

A splash and a grunt alerted her to the fact her companion arrived, "What's the plan, then?"

"Well, Ora. I'm staying right here, and you're to carry a beacon. Keep it visible so that I can track your location." The huntress pulled a disc from her tunic, arcane crackling into it as she held it. She lifted it up for Ora to take.

The orc took the beacon, squinting at it while it glowed, "But you don't have a ranged weapon. What good is there in splitting up?" Ora frowned, "Especially against a foe like this."

"I'm going to use some magic to map out the area, and I feel like I'd prefer our brain sucking mael off of my back. Don't worry, you survived before, and now you've got a weapon that's strong against anti-magic types." She leans down and places a palm flat on the tile, "Of course, be careful. We might not be alone with the mael. It only wants sentient minds, so it can coexist with whatever might dwell in a cave like this."

Ora-Ur didn't like the idea of going alone into this place, but she did agree with Ludrasa's idea. If either of them were to survive, they absolutely needed an escape plan. Going back the way they went was out of the question, as water surely would be the death of them if they tried to outrun their adversary. She silently left the remains of the tower, leaping onto stony ground. The air was warmer than she expected, considering that the water they just swam through was fairly cold.

She kept the staff in one hand, her other holding a flame to illuminate the area. Much to her surprise, the stone she was standing on had carvings in it. It also appeared the be the lip of a cavern that dropped even further below. Fire was brought forward to see if that darkness could be peeled away, and much to Ora's dismay, it didn't make a dent at the dark. She had to make a choice of what to do next. Though she didn't want to alert anything beneath her of her presence, she had to figure out how deep the cavern went. Taking a deep breath, she dropped the elemental flame into the depths.

A maze was illuminated, but not a purposeful maze. It seemed that erosion and magic had created enough grooves and cuts in the floor to create short walls. Some of the walls varied in height, of course, but most of them seemed to only reach up to her knees. There was also water down there, but only in places. Ora did much trust the water's depth, so she mentally mapped their locations to avoid falling in. The fire also did reveal another odd fact. The shadow was so oppressive that it hid naturally glowing plant life below. Whatever caused this intense darkness to consume both the estate and this peculiar abyss needed to be dealt with, for sure.

The abyss didn't actually go down that far. Ora felt rather safe in jumping down, in fact. She's fallen far further distances without much trouble. Hopping over, she fell for a second or two, landing in soft sand. Summoning a new flame, she recognized truly how dark things got down there. For what reason such an oppressive dark has fallen over the depths still was beyond her, but even the bioluminescent plantlife had a hard time appearing through it. Her fire and the dim light of life weren't the only things she had to defend herself from a sudden attack, but the sheer visual deprivation still sent her out of her comfort zone. A quick spellcast attuned her to the loose sand she crept through, giving her something similar to a warning system.

Staff in front, muscles tensed, Ora began to move. Sweat beaded down her forehead as the temperature began to swell, her own tension beginning to ramp up. She kept a cool head as she carried on, however, not allowing any single detail to escape her. She made sure to look up and make sure Ludrasa could still see her, though she could barely make out the glowing eye of her compatriot. She wondered if the beacon also was difficult to see, even though she was not all that far away. Nevertheless, Ora began to feel the sand beginning to grow damp, as she finally came to a place she saw from up above.

It was a slight hub area filled with smaller pools of water and plants, which Ora was now aware was home to a few subterranean critters. Simple crustaceans and cavern scorpids gave her a wide berth as she entered the area, placing her staff into the center of the area. To her surprise, it was chiseled stone in the center of the small nexus, similarly to the stone from up above. Part of her started to wonder if the stone was as old as the estate, or even as old as this cavern. These thoughts broke, however, as she began to cast another spell.

This one was an invocation of the wind, to start building up lightning in the area. Though direct elemental spellcasts were magical, the elements themselves weren't. She hoped to empower herself with lightning before facing this mael. Successfully beginning to build up more of a charge, Ora looked to the walls of the 'maze'. The words were incomprehensible to her, but Ora seriously started to wonder if the estate had sunken into a ruined temple.

A vibration in the air alerted her to something bigger beginning to move about that wasn't just a crab scuttling away from her. It moved with purpose, leaping to a nearby wall as Ora glanced its way. A snarl echoed through the once quiet air, "It survived, it did. It so lucky…"

"You are the one who eats minds." Ora said, flatly. She wanted to know what Ludrasa was up to, as she could still see that the nightborne was at her perch.

It made a buzzing noise, "Yes, yees. Was me. Me… I will be eating you."

Ora's grip tightened on her staff, "Why?"

It snarled, a tapping noise following it. The mael's claws, most likely. It finally responded with, "Want to… want to grow."

She grit her teeth, "So do I, and I'm afraid you won't be standing in my way for long. Unlike others, I'm not going to go easy on you."

"No matter. Easy prey!" It lunges from the dark, its tremendous slashing claws just barely missing her head. She twitched her head out of the way, lifting her staff to strike the thing between the legs. The strike went wide, missing the massively fast monstrosity. It stabbed the air wildly with two other strikes, one of them being properly parried. It screeched as a solid strike landed somewhere on its body. The mael was shorter and much more slender than Ora, but much of that body was comprised of wiry muscle. It was as if a bunch of steel cables were given life and the attributes of a dangerous hunter.

It snapped her staff almost the instant after she hit it. The momentum of the strike almost fractured her wrist, but she managed to subdue that speed before it managed to. It was shocking how powerful such a small being could be, but she didn't have time to dwell on that. If it was so strong in dark, then she'd have to improvise. Seeing that her companion still hadn't moved, Ora took off in a massive sprint down one of the paths leading from the nexus. While she felt that the creature was right behind her, she also felt that she was gaining a bit of distance on it.

The power of the elements thrust Ora-Ur forth down a path; a path slicked by water and blood. She could smell decomposing corpses, but she had no time to stop and look. She chose to run past them, instead, using static force to keep her from falling into the muck. The mael was not so lucky, as she could sense that it fell behind due to the environment. This distance, it will decide things.

Practically sliding atop the water, Ora turned in less than a second to face her relentless foe. It flew towards her with malignant rage, black claws swiping through the air in a rampant hope to rip her to shreds. There was a tiny problem in its plan. It didn't account for missing. A powerful swing of her arm ended smashing into the creature's head, sending it spinning into the muck. It dragged her in, sending a ripple of electricity through the water. The electric pulse jolted it from the muck, sending it retreating into darkness.

She charged her feet again, leaping back atop the surface of the water. She glanced back to Ludrasa's vantage point, seeing that the Violet Panther had finally decided to make her move. Through murky darkness, she could make out another pathway to more secure ground. She also found a spear, which she gladly took. Metal conducts electricity well, and this thing wasn't protected from it. A quick sprint brought her to a new flat area.

This time it was all stone, old runes carved into it. Whether or not they were the same runes as seen before, Ora didn't really notice, as she began to bandage her hand. Though the impact failed to break her bones, it did still lead a hefty gash in her palm. Hefty enough that her grip wasn't wholly steady with the spear. Testing a few swings, she found them lacking. She also found something was approaching, surely the mael had recovered from the shock she gave it.

Steadying her breathing, she tried to locate where it was in the chamber. It was doing well to subdue its presence. So well that it was tough to locate precisely where it was approaching from. She knew a direction to face, however, so she did. It chattered, "Strong… need kill fast. Not alone?"

"If I were to tell you I was with company, that wouldn't change anything. You and I must still fight." She lowered the tip of the spear, "So, what will it do?"

"It will feast!" A mighty leap carried the mael to Ora, only missing by a few feet. It dashed towards her with its claws spread wide, only to be forced back by the tip of the spear being driven upwards. She jabbed at it twice, before catching it in the leg with the spear's shaft. It stumbled and retreated, a low hiss filling the air. Her bandage already began to tear.

It lunged again. Ora stamped her foot, causing the stone to crumble and fly up. The stone did little to slow it, but it gave her enough time to ignite the ground with a swing of her spear. A wall of fire flashed from the earth to frighten the mael off. Seconds passed, the shaman moving her spear to meet the mael once again. Claws and steel clashed, causing the metal to bend and nearly break from the strength of both combatants. Air sent her backwards, but the distance wasn't much.

Through the gap came the mael, claws extended to kill Ora-Ur. Twice it struck, though the attacks weren't worth it. A spear now was stuck into its stomach, electricity flowing through it. It howled in agony as it felt its insides burning, striking Ora another time. Impacting her hard, Ora was sent tumbling into the sand. Her body now bleeding and her arm surely broken, she looked to the injured beast. It wasn't going to survive, even if she didn't manage to finish it.

"Kkkkkk… kill. You die alone…"It shakily lifted a claw, intending to use it to finish her off. She made her peace, whispered her last rites to the family she never had. But as the claw came down, Ora realized something. The beacon. She gripped it and flung it with all the force she could muster, the object bouncing off of the mael's shadowy hide like it was a pebble. It hesitated. Just a second.

In the air was an arcane stench, as magic flowed into that beacon. The mael ignored it, going to finish what it started. Though it had become aware, it appeared to be lacking in the logic it sorely desired. For, from the beacon, came a savior. A thrust halberd struck the beast off balance, a sharp kick knocking it to the ground. It scrambled out of sight, leaving Ludrasa and Ora-Ur a second to breathe.

The orc didn't speak, but Ludrasa seemed to know what was on her mind. She chuckled, "Right, sorry for taking so long. I found the exit. Need help getting up?"

Ora stood, "Thank you." She began to heal her wounds with soothing water, "It's heavily injured. It's likely to try stealth now that you've arrived."

Ludrasa drew her sword from a makeshift sheathe on her hip, "I figured. Hoped to get another attack in before it scurried off. Got any ideas how to chase it? You've been fighting it longer."

Water pulsed around open wounds, replacing blood and skin with the very spirit of nature. Silence fell between the two as Ora went through some fairly deep pain to stop her bleeding. Moments passed before she spoke, "...The way I see it, we should head out to the exit. Make it seem like we're splitting off, keep its attention on me."

The Panther cackled, "You're a tactician, eh?"

Ora shot her a deadpan look. The elf nodded, tilting her head forward to signal that Ora better start with the plan. Wrapping bandages around her bicep, she wondered what harm this damage would do to her physical ability. She hoped that it wouldn't be much, that she'd still be on track to continue training. All this time spent crafting a warrior's physique was not about to be ruined by one creature's wanton rage.

She looked to Ludrasa, "So where is the exit?"

"Go down the northern path until you reach a fork with three paths. Go down the left one, jump over the shortest section of the right left wall when you see it, and you'll come to a taller wall with a bunch of bushes around it." She shrugs, "The exit is through those. It's a crack you have to crawl through, but it leads to the sea. But I'd recommend not going through it until I get there."

"You're not suggesting that we flee the mael, are you?" Ora frowned.

"No, no. I just want to make sure our tracks are covered. I'm gonna blow the entrance up and make coming back only easy for us. You've gotta be intrigued by the lab we found and all these weird runes, right?" She stuck her halberd somewhat into the broken stonework.

"I am. I don't like the idea that someone's research lead to the arrival of such a monster. Something's wrong, and I think you'll learn just what when we come back for the professor's notes." Ora flexed her injured arm with a grimace, "But that's me. We can work together in the future on that, if you'd take me."

"It's a deal, partner. Now, let's get a move on." With that, Ora sprinted ahead. She followed her directions well, and definitely felt the creature was following just above her. It perched on the top of the walls, leaping and hissing in pursuit. She knew it saw Ludrasa break off, she almost felt that it was surely desperate to kill one of them now that it was in a bad spot.

She leapt over the wall, and found the highest wall yet. It was likely the end of the cavern itself, as she felt the breeze of the sea strike her face as she neared the bushes. Her eyes opened wide as she recognized a little too late that her air sense was interfered with by the strong sea breeze. She spun just a second before it came down on her, stinger primed for her head. The stinger ripped through the flesh of her right arm as she brought it up in a hasty defense, causing her to scream as an influx of intense shadow magic flooded her system.

She pushed it off with a mighty shove, almost losing her hand with its flailing. Ora's arm was melting, and boy was it something else. Barely able to see through the pain, something inside the orc snapped. She ducked underneath a swipe of claws, a wide sweeping kick knocking it off balance. Wind carried her strikes as she pummeled its injured stomach with several punches and kicks, but it finally recovered from her earlier attack. It would've sliced her in half if not for…

The axehead of a halberd brutally tore across its side, causing it to collapse to the ground. It barely could avoid the spearpoint of the weapon being driven into its skull, losing its facial stinger in the process. It was in a mad frenzy now, blindly flailing at Ludrasa. She easily deflected the strikes that mattered, slicing an injured hand off with an impressive swing of her sword. Another parry shattered its right leg and before it even noticed, it had a strong arm wrapped around its neck. Ora held it down as Ludrasa landed the finishing blow, cleaving its head clean off with two strikes of her weapons.

Ludrasa's eye went wide as she saw the state of Ora's arm, "Ora! It got you with its stinger, didn't it?!"

"Mm…" She could barely stand.

"It'll continue to eat your body if we don't act. Don't hate me for this!" Ludrasa grabbed Ora by her upper arm, using an intense amount of magical fire to slice clean through the orc's forearm. A good fourth of Ora's arm dropped to the ground, Ludrasa's magic now turned on it as it turned black. She fired two fireballs into the goo that was once her partner's dominant hand.

She was glad they didn't shake on it. Their partnership might've already gone up in flames.


	4. Chapter 4: Cruelty of the Job

"C'mon, Ora. Just a little while longer. Just stay awake."

The past few hours had been a blur for Ora-Ur. Searing pain blinded her senses. As if her hand had been dipped in molten iron, that sense of shocking pain spanned her entire body now. The thing she and Ludrasa killed poisoned her body, on top of trying to melt it. Her veins were turning black, her insides already screaming to be let free. But that didn't stop Ludrasa from dragging the orc back to Shockfuse's Landing, as heavy as Ora was and as little as the orc was actually helping Ludrasa in the march back. The Landing wasn't far off from where they currently were, but Ora began to shiver. Actually, to say she was shivering was pretty far from the truth. It's as if she was trying to do some manner of interpretive dance, but on the ground. "Fuck." Was all Ludrasa had to say in response.

"No time to find a healer in your state, and I can't carry you…" She hissed through her teeth, grabbing a bottle from her belt, "If you die from this, at least you died from my hand and not a monster's." She managed to hold Ora down long enough to uncork the bottle, open Ora's mouth, and pour the viscous black liquid down her throat. Lifting Ora up so she didn't choke on the liquid, she tilted the orc's head back in hopes that her malfunctioning body could actually swallow. Quiet moans of pain turned into rather awful shrieks, which made Ludrasa breathe a sigh of relief.

To say Ludrasa was an odd nightborne was only scratching the surface of a rather long and painful history, but to cut it short, she'd been experimented on and did experiments on herself for a very long time. Magic and alchemy worked Ludrasa into a perfect huntress in her early days, where she fervently hunted Elisande's detractors in a period of time long passed. She gained a conscience, luckily, so she grew to actually hate the magistrix' rule and all that jazz. Turns out what they did to Ludrasa dulled her emotions, slowed her heart rate, and almost killed her vision. Still, her senses were sharpened through training, so the near blindness she dealt with wasn't too much of an obstacle. Alas, since her metabolism and heart rate was slower, she was able to imbibe in much more dangerous potions without any worry for her health. The thing she just forced down Ora's throat was just as likely to kill her as to expel the toxins in her veins.

The screams drew a bit of attention from the Landing's guards, as now a few Goblins in armor a little too big for them now crowded around Ludrasa and Ora, weapons drawn. A few questions were barked out, questions Ludrasa honestly didn't care to listen for. She was watching her ally struggle to stay alive, to heal. Ora's eyes flickered open and shut, her screaming grew ragged at times, as sweat streamed down her body. Ludrasa could feel the orc's muscles flex and tighten, her only hand's grip tightening around Ludrasa's hand. Her convulsions, her kicks and flailings at an invisible enemy she tried to fight, began to weaken. She calmed, her breath calmed, and soon enough…

Ora was still. Ludrasa drew her ear to Ora's chest, listening for a beat. Her heart stilled. It stopped. The huntress turned to the agitated group of goblins, urgency in her voice. She yelled so that even the Landing might hear, "GET THIS ORC A HEALER, QUICKLY!" They stood there, shocked. The elf's rare rage filled her voice, " ARE YOU DEAF?! GET HER A HEALER OR THERE WON'T BE ANY PART OF YOU TO SEND HOME!" Now that got through to them, as they sent their fastest boy back on to the Landing. As fast as his stubby legs could carry him, he ran and ran. Ludrasa didn't care to watch him go, as she ripped Ora's shirt from her chest. Placing her palms on the orc's skin, she began to pour a good deal of magic into her body. It was the little she could do to keep Ora's life in stasis before the healer got there. "Stay alive, damnit. We've not gone through this much shit for you to die now."

Little time passed until the healer arrived. Miss Mayor, Sarble Shockfuse. Concern crossed the mayor's face as she ran over to Ora's side, kneeling in the dirt to place her own hands on the orc's body. She looked to Ludrasa, "Was your hunt a success?" 

"Doesn't matter if you don't save her, Mayor." Ludrasa's jaw was clenched as she spoke, exhaustion clearly starting to take its toll.

"Then I'll get to that." Water snaked up from a jar around Sarble's waist, flowing across Ora's body. From the surrounding area came motes of shining green energy, which was drawn to the water wrapped around her exposed body. A bright green shine now glowed within the already magical liquid. Moments passed, minutes passed, before Sarble retracted the liquid back to where it came. Ludrasa and the mayor sat in silence, waiting for Ora to respond.

Nothing. More silence. Something. A weak, wheezing gasp. Ludrasa put her head over Ora's chest, the orc's heart slowly thudding. Everyone in the crowd sighed a sigh of relief, except for Ludrasa. The nightborne rose to her feet and went to get her bag. She lifted something bound in black stained white bandaging, dropping it next to Sarble. The mayor glanced up, "What is this?"

"The head of your spook, Miss Mayor." Ludrasa's tone returned to her monotone norm, "I'll take it that I did a job well done, then?"

"Considering your friend's injuries and your own exhaustion, I figure you've done exactly as I asked. To be safe, I'll send a few people back to poke about the ruins, but…" She nodded, "You'll get your payment, and a bit of a bonus. If I had known what sort of beast lived down there, I'd've offered ten thousand."

"You don't have ten thousand to offer. I'll take six thousand." Ludrasa reached her hand out to help the Mayor stand.

"Six thousand? Are you sure? You could wait and I could-" A glare shut Sarble up.

"The rest comes from you letting me take my friend into your inn, take a room, and eat for a little while for free. I don't plan on staying long, so I think that should cover your debt."

She caught the Mayor in her generosity, as Sarble quickly accepted this as the terms for her payment. Ora was carried back to town by Ludrasa (who also had to find a new shirt for her friend), and taken into the inn. When in their room, Ludrasa unbound Ora's new stump, taking a look at the damage. A small grunt was all Ludrasa had in response to that. She did stitch it up and give Ora a new set of bandages, but she doubted Ora-Ur would be too pleased waking up without much of her right arm. Still, she should be grateful to be alive.

Tossing Ora onto the bed after finishing all that up, Ludrasa felt a headache coming on. What better to do than drown that out with a bit of celebratory grog? Stripping her big chain jacket off, she felt much better. She locked the door behind her as she went out to find something to drink, and she supposed to eat. Luckily, it wasn't too late in the day for the inn's connected bar 'n' grill to be closed. Taking a seat next to a few curious patrons at the bar front, she waited a bit for someone to scurry on over to take a rather frightened order from her.

"Get me a pint of something strong." Her stomach growled, "Urgh, and I suppose I'll take a number four." She swore it said four, at least. Head hurt, eye never was good at the whole seeing business, and she really wasn't in the mood to scrutinize. She wasn't ever in the mood to socialize, so when the curious patrons decided to start talking, she swore the pounding in her head was actually something trying to break out of her skull with a drill.

An orc leaned over, "Shoot, don't see much of you cuties gettin' all muddy like that. What'd ya tussle with, sweetheart?"

"Bigger, faster, stronger. Could split your head like a grape." She was curt, as she always was.

Another, some sort of blood elf merchant, also leaned in, "Really? I suppose I'd believe it, though you look terrible. I've got a bath back home, if you'd like to clean yourself up."

She scoffed, "Hm. Could take you up on that, if I didn't have someone to take care of."

"Ah, another time, then?" His ears drooped a little, "But, uh, who are you taking care of? Is it the thing you fought with?"

"Occupational hazard. She's fine, just… probably hungry." The elf brushed some sand off of her forehead, "After that much healing, I'd be hungry too."

The orc whistled, "Ah, shit! Yer the elfie who screamed earlier for a healer, eh? Said you carried an orc with ya. Must've some beastie, then."

The blood elf leaned back, "E-eh, right. Taking on a monster that caused that much damage? You're… Scary."

A plate was set down in front of her, so was a mug. Ludrasa grunted while drinking, placing two of her new six thousand gold pieces down to pay for her meal. She didn't get exactly what she wanted, but she might as well be illiterate at this point. She barely can read in broad daylight, not to mention in a dimly lit bar at the end of the day. It was adequate, at least. The taste of meat was still one she was getting used to, but she didn't quite hate it. The taste of orcish beer, though, that was still a taste she had yet to have acquired. Fill a bottle with piss and alcohol and call it a "beverage". She shook her head, "Hm. Scary, huh? Fair enough."

Then she tried to put her drink down. It was stuck midair, leaving Ludrasa to immediately pull out a dagger she hid down her coat, " Magic, really? I'm trying to relax, you never fuck with a person while they're eating!"

"Relax, Panther. You're in no danger, at least, not yet." A familiar voice.

Ludrasa stood from her seat, looking around the room. Nobody else was in there but the frozen patrons and herself. So when she turned to see Demo O'Gorgo standing where the goblin waitress once stood, it wasn't shocking that she tried to skewer him with her dirk. He ducked back, just a bit, to avoid the tip by a hair's width. He laughed, " I wouldn't do that. Put the knife away, let's chat."

"Why the fuck would I put my knife down?" She glared, "And how the FUCK did you do this?!"

"Enough profanity! It's unbecoming of a Highborne to swear like a sailor, you know." His grin was as wide and unsettling as before. He wasn't as dead as he appeared, though, last time. He was a full man here, clean and living. O'Gorgo around the bar to face Ludrasa, walking to the side of a table much further back in the inn. Gesturing to a seat, it was clear he wanted her to join him at the table.

She took her food and grog and carefully sat in the seat he pulled out for her. As she sat, time began to move again. The elf and the orc seemed to be deeply confused by her sudden vanishing, both standing and leaving soon after. The room was left to them, leaving Ludrasa to speak her mind, "So, you just did something I haven't seen anything near the scale of since I lived in Suramar. Only Elisande had the power to control time on that level, but you seemed to do it with more ease than she did."

"I won't answer the question you're about to ask. Some things are best kept as secrets, Miss Shieza, because I'm certain you'll not like the answer. Instead, allow me ask you a question." He leaned in, "How would you like to do me a favor? My rewards are much more valuable than the trifling gold that goblin granted you."

She took a drink, "Why are you asking me now, and not when we met in Orgrimmar?"

"Sometimes you need to see someone work before you can be certain of their prowess. I've heard enough overblown mercenaries peacock around about their skill, only to be killed by a foe they should've so easily been able to handle." He looked to Ludrasa, his grin shrinking a bit, "You, however, proved that otherwise. Most on this world could not have so handily dealt with that Mael, even with such capable help as Ora-Ur."

"You know her too? Odd. She doesn't seem that social." Ludrasa grunts, "Assuming that she even did meet you, or you just know too much. What do you want me to do, then?"

O'Gorgo procured something from beneath the table, something much too large for him to have concealed on his body. It was a fine sword of obviously elven craft, imbued with copious amounts of dark runes. Running a hand down the flat of the blade, O'Gorgo lit the runes up with a magical touch. He looked to her, "Is this weapon familiar?"

"A little. I recognize the family it was made by, but they were a part of the Highborne who rebelled against Azshara. So, it's not anything of Suramar." She squinted at it, "A Del'Quren blade."

"The Del'Quren still live to this day, Ludrasa Shieza. And their last son, Aman Del'Quren, is causing trouble. The mael was his doing, and there's bound to be more havoc unleashed if he carries on down his troublesome path. I want you to track him, find out what he's doing, and dissuade him from being bothersome. My reward, well, it can be anything you want." He pushes the sword forward, "Do we have a deal?"

"Anything? So that was Del'Quren's research down there? Most of it is protected by magic, I haven't had the time to decrypt it." Ludrasa stood, "If I bring the pages, could you lower the wards? It'd prove your claim."

"If it means you'll be willing to take this job, then yes, I will." He nods, gesturing for her to leave.

Ludrasa takes her drink with her, heading back to the inn. She scaled some stairs and unlocked the door to their shared room. Surprisingly, Ora was actually still sleeping. This time, though, she was under the covers. It was likely she awoke, figured the situation, and decided against making noise. Ludrasa took her bag and planted it on a table, shuffling through it to find the research notes she scavenged down there. She went to leave, until the room shook a bit. Strong footsteps carried someone behind her, and it was likely Ora had woken. When a brown hand clasped her shoulder, it was true.

"You hungry?"

Silence was the orc's answer, for a few moments at least. Her voice was rather quiet, "New shirt would be nice, but yes. I'm hungry."

"You good?"

"Mmh."

"Then I'm going. Be back soon. Be careful with your arm." Ludrasa was good to her word, leaving with the pages no sooner than she came. Unfortunately, she was certain what was left of her meal had grown cold, but she'd bring it back nevertheless. Ora was young, and this sort of trauma for someone so young; it just wasn't right. O'Gorgo was where she left him, his grin growing into something far less creepy. It was so strange how a few muscles could make the uncanny turn welcoming. She set the papers down in front of Demo, checking the warmth of her food in the meantime. It was surprisingly as warm as she got it. A glance was sent O'Gorgo's way, one he surely didn't miss.

"If I'm to purchase your services, Miss Shieza, the last thing I want is to start off on a bad foot. Which I'm aware I did, so take this as me smoothing things over." He made quick work of the research, as well. Where wards once stood, now ink was clearly displayed. Though the new information did little for Ludrasa, seeing the Del'Quren signature and several mentions of "Being the Last Son" did do quite a bit for her. And O'Gorgo could tell. The pages were passed over, " So, I take it that this is enough evidence?"

"I'll be keeping them, just in case there's good information about his whereabouts. But, yeah. This is enough. I'm hired." She shoved the papers into her pant pockets, "But, my question is, where's my proof of contract going to be?"

O'Gorgo stood, "You'll know soon enough. I'll be in contact soon."

He walked passed her, and as soon as he was out of sight, he vanished. Ludrasa turned her head to find that she was alone, all the lights were out and everything. A growl slipped from her throat, "I hate mages." Alone still, she marched on back to her room, carefully watching each and every suspicious shadow. She couldn't see detail, sure, but she knew a bad shadow from a good one better than most others. Much to her relief, it just seemed that a few hours passed since she started speaking to Demo O'Gorgo. Everyone in the place had gone off or gone to sleep, leaving her perfectly alone.

Entering the shared room again, she found Ora wide awake, staring at where much of her right arm once was. It was now very obvious what Ora had lost, everything from right below her elbow down. Ludrasa set the plate of still-warm meat down on the table next to her gear, "Sorry, didn't find a shirt. You'll have to make do with mine."

"Your's? Will it fit?" Ora didn't look away from the empty space.

"We're about as broad as each other. Same height, give or take a few inches." She paused, glancing down. She glanced at Ora, "It'll still be a bit tight, though. Best I can do."

"We have six thousand gold pieces. Why not buy one tomorrow?" Ora looked over her shoulder, squinting at the elf.

"Missions like these are expensive, Ora. I have to fix my equipment, restock on items, and pay the people who helped me get here. And, we've got to do something about that injury. Both of us are broken in more places than we'd like to admit to. Healing costs are expensive these days, after all." Ludrasa looked to the side as Ora turned all the way around, "And, I'm not going out with you looking like that. I draw enough attention as is, a half naked orc with me? I'm begging to get shot."

"That's fine. You're right. But not about my arm."

"Oh. We're already talking about it?" Ludrasa kept her gaze averted, but loosely gestured towards where she thought Ora's arm was.

"I get over things quicker than most, I guess. It's another step of life. A step I must suffer for, but… It happened." She sighs, "I have an idea, though. I'm a shaman, and I've met another shaman with a similar predicament. She was actually worse off, lost her entire arm and netted a great deal of scarring from what happened to her. But, she survived through it by using her connection to the spirits."

"I can add two and two together. You've met a Warlord, then? A troll?" She turned around, taking her beaten up tank-top off.

"Jezzert. The stone arm, I want to replicate it." Ora caught the tossed top.

Ludrasa grunted, "Hopefully you don't mean me cutting the rest of your arm off for the full deal."

Ora laughed, shaking her head, "No, no. I just mean for what I've lost. I've been seeking an answer for what Kalandrios sent me to Azeroth for, and I'm thinking I've finally started to figure out what it is. He's sent me here to witness life."

Ludrasa pulled her jacket off the ground, beating a bit of mud and sand out of it, "Don't keep me in suspense. I'm practically all ears."

"Was that a joke?"

"Maybe." Ludrasa turned, "I have a sense of humor, somewhere."

Ora tilted her head, smiling for a moment. To know that her companion was trying to break the barriers between them was touching, especially for someone like Ludrasa to be making the attempt. The orc decided to explain what she meant, almost in thanks for this. She spoke with an odd nostalgia, "Suffering, joy. Pain, love. All of that, you know? Life."

"Hm. Won't question it." The elf walked over and stole a pillow from the bed. She tossed it into a corner, where she seemed to wish to sleep.

"You don't want me to make space?" Ora frowned, "C'mon, you deserve at least a comfortable-"

"NO."

Ora was startled, a little. She laid back a little, "I-I'm… sorry?"

The elf cursed under her breath, "Sorry. Just, don't ask. Sleep. We're moving early in the morning, I want to be back in Orgrimmar by nightfall."

"Right."

Now silence fell in the room, allowing Ludrasa to lay back and regret. Accepting a mission from a time controlling freak? Hunting a nobleman down of the Del'Quren prestige? Getting Ora involved? None of it was ideal, but… She felt like there was something in this job that might get both her and Ora some closure. Aman Del'Quren was up to something, so was Demo O'Gorgo to be fair, and Ludrasa had to know what either of them were doing. And if the promise of a wish is real, she might think that Ora would like something like that. A wish to find her purpose on Azeroth. If not, Ludrasa could do with getting her vision restored. She dearly missed the days when she could make out details without straining herself.

It was selfish, both of these things. The ability to wish for anything, and she's thinking for herself and for one other person. Perhaps she could wish for the end of war, or for Teldrassil to be regrown… But she wasn't ambitious, and she didn't really care for anyone else. It was her and her stupid little life, and she enjoyed what she did. Well, maybe she didn't, but she didn't have time to consider another life. This was what she knew and what she needed to do to survive. Whether or not she actually truly enjoyed it, or was just deluding herself, it was trivial.

A hunter's life is on the road, in isolation. She'd have it no other way.


End file.
